


Late Night Fever Dream

by redroseinsanity



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Astrophysicist! Oikawa, BFF Oikawa and Suga, But a happy ending nonetheless, M/M, Ramen chef!Iwa, cause I am now, i hope this makes you hungry for ramen, iwaoi - Freeform, mainly fluff, of course, ramen shop au, side daisuga, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 07:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14711612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redroseinsanity/pseuds/redroseinsanity
Summary: A love story charted by the stars and ramen receipts.Iwaizumi makes Oikawa fall in love and ramen in pretty much the same breath.





	Late Night Fever Dream

Hajime peered up at the trails of muddled pink curling around rapidly darkening clouds, fingers absentmindedly peeling beansprouts in preparation for the next day. It was probably going to rain and while the little awning covering the seats in front of the ramen stand were sufficient to shelter anyone sitting there, he highly doubted anyone would brave the rain just to eat at the cheerfully lit stall.

A blessing in disguise, he concluded, because now he had time to prep ingredients for the next day so that his father would have less to do. A small grin quirked up at the corner of his mouth as he deftly flicked beansprouts into their containers. People commented that he inherited his stubbornness from his father and he could see why, for the moment the doctors had deemed the old man semi-recovered and doing well, his father had insisted on coming back for the afternoon shift at his ramen stall.

The smirk edged into a grin as Hajime recalled his father waving his arms around with more vigour than he had shown in the past six months and declaring brashly that he would make a comeback to the stall. Not that Hajime objected, of course, the long working hours were definitely taking their toll and rubbing another knot of muscles at the base of his neck, Hajime could admit that he was grateful for the chance for a break.

“Yahoo~,” Hajime startled and was instantly grateful he’d been holding only beansprouts and not a knife because he’d mostly likely have had cut off a finger given his jumpy response to the greeting that broke through his thoughts.

Turning to the seats facing his little kitchen area, he was faced with a ridiculously handsome man. A ridiculously handsome man who was waving at him and smiling very charmingly. Hajime scrambled for a greeting as his gaze took in something like a Greek statue brought to life. The customer was all high cheekbones and perfectly tousled hair, his neck and shoulders carved in clean lines and set in the sunset’s shadows that shifted behind him.

_Oh my God, Hajime, don’t go gaga over a good looking customer. Be professional!_ Wiping his hands on a damp cloth, he regained his composure. 

“Welcome! Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would come because of the rain,” Hajime nodded at the chestnut haired man, silently noting the work of a few odd raindrops on the customer’s light blue shirt. The customer laughed, a light, tinkly kind of laugh that both cut Hajime’s air supply and yet, made him furrow his brow because it sounded so… Rehearsed.

“Psh, rain won’t stand in the way of me getting to some good food! I’m starving, Ramen-kun! I’d like a shio ramen, please!!!”

Hajime blinked twice, processing.

“What.”

The Unfortunately Attractive Weirdo (as Hajime had begun calling him in his head) widened his eyes, looking unfairly adorable and propped his head on his hands. Again, Hajime was struck by how cute this guy was and yet, how underneath it all lay a hint of pretence.

“What, Ramen-kun?” And then he, oh god, he fluttered his stupidly long eyelashes and Hajime nearly forgot what he was miffed about for a few seconds. But it was too glaring for Hajime to ignore and letting some annoyance seep into his tone, he assumed a neutral face.

“What did you call me?” He narrowed his eyes because this guy was almost agitating enough for him to forget how handsome he was. Almost. And there it was again, the tinkly laugh that Hajime was sure to be engineered specifically to enamour the listener (definitely not because it was doing an admirable job at enamouring Hajime).

Hajime never had much patience with insincere people and the time spent manning his father’s ramen stand had forced him to grow more tolerant, or at least better at handling them. But he sniffed out bullshit a mile away and as painfully attractive as this man was, Hajime refused to stand for or be made a fool of by his showy insincerity.

“Ramen-kun!!!” the Unfortunately Attractive Weirdo clasped his hands together and smiled prettily, “I didn’t know how to address you so I just picked something! I didn’t want to be rude after all.” His voice lilted with mischief and Hajime caught a glimmer in the other man’s dark brown eyes. _I’m not going to be caught up in your games_.

“Iwaizumi,” He caught and held those dark eyes steadily, keeping his voice on an even keel, “Please call me Iwaizumi.” For a second, that brilliant façade flickered and Hajime witnessed something human, something like genuine delight run down his face like a water droplet sliding down a glass window. Then the perfect smile and lowered lashes were back in place again and Hajime practically heard the ‘bang’ of shutters as he lost sight of the Unfortunately Attractive Weirdo behind this sleek, glamorous exterior. Sighing, Hajime turned to prepare the dish and then paused.

“Um,” he mentally debated with himself for a split second before throwing caution to the wind and facing the slightly surprised looking customer, “If you’re starving, why not order the tonkotsu ramen? It’s rich and filling which would be more suited to your current appetite…” He trailed off, taking in the other man’s slightly stunned look. Pink lips just parted and his eyes were no longer gleaming and playful but mildly surprised with just a dash of vulnerability.

It was gone in a second as he recovered quickly, waving an elegant hand flippantly as another bright smile was flung at Hajime.

“Ah! It’s only because my stomach is very delicate when I’m stressed, and I tend to get gastric very easily so I have to eat light things, for the sake of my fragile health!” Overly dramatic near the end, the Unfortunately Attractive Weirdo smote his brow and partially collapsed on the countertop, peeking up at Hajime with cheeky brown eyes.

Suppressing a chuckle, Hajime raised an eyebrow and managed a cool “I see” before heading back to prepare the ramen. Working in relative silence as he sliced the chashu and ladled the broth onto freshly cooked noodles, he decided to file this away under “Strange Customer Encounters” to tell his sister about some time.

But it seemed that while Hajime was ready to move past this strange encounter, the universe was not. As he sprinkled chopped spring onions over the piping hot bowl of ramen he heard in a crystalline voice behind him, slowly and deliberately:

“Eeewahyeezooomeeee.”

Hajime halted, residual scallions plopping into the bowl as he considered giving in to the tendrils of vexation creeping up his spine and throwing hot soup at the most frustrating customer he had ever had the misfortune to meet.

_Did I think, when I graduated in the top 2 percent of Computer Science with some pretty fantastic job offers within reach, that I would ever be here dealing with this guy? No, probably not_ , he sighed _, but I also didn’t think that dad would sprain his back either… You made this choice, Hajime, deal with it_.

Whirling around, he glared and felt a tinge of pride as the Unfortunately Attractive Weirdo cowered a bit in his seat.

“Wah! You look so scary, Eeewahyeezooomeeee!”, Despite sounding slightly frantic, the Unfortunately Attractive Weirdo was quite committed to his besmirched pronunciation of Hajime’s name and slowed down when he came to it, allowing a teasing tone to further corrupt the name. “Don’t make that face! You’ll scare all your customers away!”

Closing his eyes, Hajime took a deep breath and snatched up the bowl of ramen, stomped over and set it down gently because despite wanting to splash hot soup on this idiot, he couldn’t _really_ scald him.

“I won’t look so angry if you could pronounce my name properly, dumbass,” He grumbled, accepting the cash proffered by large but slim-fingered hands. The Unfortunately Attractive Weirdo gasped, hand to his chest like you’d just told him you stole his dead grandmother’s prized tea set before the funeral was over.

“Eeewahyeezooomeeee!!! You just insulted me!” The pout was quickly replaced by a pleased look and a satisfied hum as the handsome man took a sip of the soup before beginning to slurp up the noodles with gusto. Despite the irritation that infused Hajime’s impression of the guy, he couldn’t help but feel a grudging sense of pride that he had satisfied another customer with his cooking.

His biggest concern when beginning work at his father’s ramen stall was that his cooking would fare drastically worse in comparison with his father’s despite having spent countless summer breaks and school evenings helping out. His father had assured him that Hajime was definitely capable of serving equally good ramen but it was always some sort of relief mixed with pride whenever customers enjoyed their food.

So it was slightly difficult to completely dislike this Unfortunately Attractive Weirdo when he was practically inhaling Hajime’s ramen like it was the best thing he’d eaten for days. _Wow, he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was starving._

“Look,” Hajime started, leaning on the tabletop barrier between the kitchen and the counter that the customer was finishing his ramen up at, “I won’t call you names if you stop butchering mine.”

Hajime had to admit that when the Unfortunately Attractive Weirdo’s head popped up, chocolate eyes wide and hopeful with strands of noodles still hanging from his mouth, he looked pretty damn adorable. Averting his eyes, Hajime coughed as noodles were hurriedly slurped up, lips were patted dry and a hand was extended.

“Oikawa Tooru,” Oikawa announced, darting a sly, flirtatious look at Hajime like he knew that it would make Hajime’s heart pound.

Praying that his hands weren’t sweaty, Hajime gave Oikawa’s outstretched hand a firm shake and nodded briskly, trying not to think about how Oikawa’s hands were slightly more calloused than he had expected.

“Alright, nice to meet you, Oikawa-san” Hajime looked out into the presently dark evening sky, “I think the rain has stopped too.”

“Tsk, you almost seem as though you’re trying to chase me away,” Oikawa teased but he gathered his things and stood, waving jauntily at Hajime as he had when he arrived, “Thank you for the super yummy ramen, I’ll be sure to come back… Iwa-chan!”

By the time Hajime began to react, Oikawa had melted into the darkness, trailed by an airy laugh that sounded the least forced out of all his laughs that evening.

But Hajime’s roared “WHAT???” was loud enough that Oikawa was sure to have heard it anyway.

\---

“Ugh, Kou-chan, he was so sexy I nearly choked on my ramen,” Tooru whined, flopping over Suga’s desk and destructively pressing random keys on Suga’s laptop until the other man huffed a sigh and turned to him.

“You’re lucky that wasn’t the report I needed to hand in later today that you just keyboard smashed,” the silver-haired man informed him, taking off his reading glasses and setting them to the right of the laptop.

“Kou-chaaaan,” Tooru made himself even more boneless, practically melting onto Suga’s papers, “You’re not listening! I’m having a crisis!”

“Tooru, you met an incredibly attractive ramen chef,” Suga pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the dents left by the spectacles, “In what way is that a crisis? It sounds pretty good to me.”

“The crisis,” Tooru drew himself up to his full sitting height, “Is that he wasn’t attracted to meee!” He slumps again, this time on Suga’s shoulder, draping his long arms around Suga’s neck.

“I did everything!” Tooru continued, his voice muffled into Suga’s collarbone, “I flirted, I did the laugh, I gave him bedroom eyes and it was like flirting with a wall!” Tooru drew back with a sharp gasp, “What if he’s _straight_?”

Suga looked at the ceiling and let out a long-suffering sigh but when he spoke, his voice was full of fond amusement.

“Tooru, you know you’re attractive but not everyone can fall for you, right?”

“There’s no way he’s not gay, I saw the way he first looked at me,” Tooru was muttering to himself, completely deaf to Suga’s words, “There’s no way he’s not attracted to me, I know what I saw and I’m never wrong.”

“My dear Tooru, maybe this one just isn’t interested, you can always find another one. You know you can,” Hazel eyes met brown ones and for a split second Suga thought he had managed to bring this episode to a close but Tooru’s forehead slid down and rested on Suga’s shoulder, his voice floating up to Suga a moment later in a whine.

“But I want this one.” 

Suga closed his eyes and thanked god for such silly yet entertaining friends, simultaneously praying for strength to not murder such silly yet entertaining friends. The clearing of a throat made his eyes pop open and he couldn’t stop himself from breaking into a bright smile.

“Sorry,” Warm, dark eyes with a hint of laughter in them darted between Suga and Tooru, “Is this a bad time?”

“Of course not!” Suga beamed, his eyes resting on the figure before him. _Broad shoulders, kind smile and that voice_ , Suga’s smile turned slightly predatory, _I want_ this _one._ Casting his eyes down to where Tooru’s head was nested in the crook of his shoulder, “You know how he gets.”

Before any response could be offered, Tooru’s head shot up, a mock scowl in place.

“Rude, Kou-chan!” He turned to the tanned man standing at Suga’s desk, “Dai-chaaaaan, Kou-chan is being mean and heartless. Although,” Tooru winked at Daichi, “I must say, his shoulder is very comfortable to lean on, you really should give it a try sometime.”

With a peace sign and a “Later, losers” flung behind him, Tooru sauntered off.

Daichi looked like he wanted to say something but settled on a sigh while Suga just rolled his eyes and gestured to the chair Tooru had just vacated, trying not to stare at Daichi’s thighs when he lowered himself into it.

“I hope I really wasn’t interrupting anything serious but you both looked quite chill so I’m guessing it wasn’t?” Suga shook his head to Daichi’s question, his eyes darting to the papers grasped in tanned hands with curiosity. Following Suga’s inquisitive gaze, Daichi chuckled and handed them over, both of them pointedly ignoring the way their hands brushed as the papers were passed.

“We’re launching a new project. It’s in tandem with NASA and they’re even sending a team over to work with us for a couple of months. We need a statement to release to the press and maybe a report for interested journals and magazines.”

Enthusiasm leaked into Daichi’s voice as he briefed Suga and Suga couldn’t help but grin. Having been in the PR department for Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency or JAXA for close to a year now, he knew how big of a deal this was and if Daichi was excited, Tooru was probably vibrating with sheer joy right now.

“Wow! Big project, huh? I’ll need an in-depth brief and probably an afternoon at least with you guys both in the lead up and after it’s begun,” Suga smoothly put his reading glasses back on, opened up a planner and pointed at a couple of dates before turning to find Daichi staring at him with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Are these dates good for you?”

While Daichi nodded and took his phone out to record down the dates, Suga decided to go for it, “It’s going to be a busy few months for you guys… If you ever need to take a break, I’ve been told my shoulder is very comfortable.”

Daichi’s gaze shot up to meet hazel eyes sparkling with humour and warmth while Suga watched with interest as the faint pink turned darker against tanned cheeks and Daichi fumbled with his phone. There was a moment’s pause in which Suga wondered if he’d done it and scared Daichi away but Daichi looked up, bashful but sweet smile firmly in place.

“I’ll hold you to that, Suga,” He stood to leave and hesitated, “Actually, I’ve been told that broad shoulders are extremely comfortable so if you should need any, you know where to find me.” With that, and blushing to the tips of his ears, he strode off.

Suga watched him go, heart pounding a lot faster than he would like to admit and looking like the cat that had gotten the canary.

\---

It was two weeks before Hajime next saw Oikawa and even then he nearly didn’t recognize him. Gone was the polished, shiny glamour that he had previously cloaked himself in, in its stead was a slightly pale, worn looking man who sank into the plush counter seat with none of the previous perky flirtatiousness that had marked his initial visit.

Hajime’s eyes traced a creamy complexion which, though wan, still looked flawless save for the tinges of purples under his eyes. They were as though someone had dipped their thumbs into the pots Hajime’s sister used for eyeshadow and brushed them underneath Oikawa’s eyes, wiping invisible tears away only to leave bruises. His chestnut hair was significantly more dishevelled, as though he’d run his hands through it multiple times that day and forgotten to fix it before he left. It made him look kind of adorable and _real_ , which Hajime liked. Really really liked.

He was still concerned though, Oikawa looked like he was running dangerously low and while Hajime wasn’t sure if he was overstepping bounds, he didn’t want Oikawa to pass out. Moving quickly, he grabbed a bowl, scooped some rice out and cracked an onsen egg over it. Placing the bowl on a small tray along with soy sauce, he set it on the countertop in front of a stunned Oikawa.

“I know you want a shio ramen but this is on the house because if you faint while I’m preparing it, I’m not dragging you to the hospital,” He said gruffly, trying to ignore the searching look in Oikawa’s eyes.

“Ah, I must look really bad if Iwa-chan is being nice to me,” Oikawa smiled, tired eyes crinkling up at Hajime and sending a wave of affection for the customer through him. He was grateful that with a quiet “itadakimasu “, Oikawa immediately tucked in, leaving Hajime to attempt to hide his rapidly reddening cheeks in a cloud of steam rising from the noodles.

He was only halfway done with the preparation of the ramen when he heard the tell-tale sound of chopsticks hitting the bottom of the bowl and turned with an incredulous expression.

“Dumbass, did you even chew or did you just breathe it in?” He demanded, the soup ladle still in his hand.

“I was hungrryyyy, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouted but Hajime didn’t seem to have heard him because he was too busy guffawing. Oikawa stared at him with wide brown eyes in a mixture of surprise and confusion as Hajime bent over, full bellied laugh shaking him bodily.

Hajime also missed the “Iwa-chan” that Oikawa breathed, bright eyes filled with a tenderness at the sight of Hajime’s laughter exposing a brilliant smile that rattled Oikawa’s brains just as much as the chef’s sweet consideration had earlier. It occurred to Oikawa that maybe this scene, this laughter was a mirage or trick of light, the way a rainbow formed when sunlight hit mist just right. Because it seemed to Oikawa that this chef, one hand on the counter and flashing a painfully adorable set of dimples, was a mere phantasm, something out of a late-night fever dream.

The soft longing had long been schooled into a gently fond expression that held just the right amount of indignation by the time Hajime straightened, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes and finally resting the soup ladle on the side of the pot.

“Sorry,” Hajime wheezed, not sounding very sorry at all, “It’s just that you-” He glanced up at Oikawa and succumbed to another brief round of chuckles as the taller man huffed a sigh but remained unable to keep a smile from spreading across his face anyway. Hajime took a deep, steadying breath, grin still in place as he gave up on words and whipped out his phone instead. Before Oikawa could register what was happening, there was a soft click and Hajime turned his screen to show Oikawa…

A photo of himself, looking rather flushed and adorably confused. But more importantly, a photo of him with rice stuck on his nose, making him look more like a child than a key astrophysicist in one of JAXA’s biggest projects to date.

With a squawk, Oikawa snatched up some serviettes and wiped off the two renegade grains of rice that had perched on his nose.

“IWA-CHAN! Delete that!” He tried to sound mad but a giggle escaped him and Hajime was off again, leaning against drawers and trying to catch his breath.

Glancing up at him through messy brown strands of hair, Oikawa’s chest squeezed. The chef’s figure was set aglow by the soft light from the lanterns flanking in the shop, bathing his relaxed smile in warm light, his delighted expression a drastic change from his usual stoicism. _This is why I came_ , he realised, _because after a long, difficult day, I just want a bit of this warmth._

“If you didn’t eat so fast, this wouldn’t have happened,” Hajime informed him, apparently having regained composure and going back to preparing the ramen.

“But Iwa-chaaaan, I was hungry, I didn’t want to eat at that speed, my _stomach_ did,” Oikawa protested.

Serving him his shio ramen, Hajime considered Oikawa’s puppy dog face, all wide eyes and pouting lips and allowed a grudging smile.

“You really should eat more during the day, what did you even eat for lunch? If you can’t eat heavy meals, you should eat many light ones throughout the day,” he chided, not knowing why he was fussing so much for a customer who had only come by twice.

“Awww, Iwa-chan! Are you my mom?” Oikawa teased, skilfully avoiding Hajime’s questions and advice, choosing to direct a cheeky smile at the dark haired man.

“Shut up, Shittykawa. I’m only saying this cause you looked like the dude in that movie just before the thing burst out of his stomach.” Hajime growled, instantly regretting his concern and reaching out to tug none to gently on Oikawa’s hair. Only to discover, to his horror, that it was preposterously soft and that he wanted to linger with his fingers in the other man’s hair for longer than was appropriate.

He yanked his hand back, as though Oikawa was the boiling pot of soup that he had scalded himself on when he was ten and looked up to see if Oikawa had noticed his weird behaviour. But Oikawa was stock still and gaping at Hajime like he had never seen him before.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa’s voice started as a whisper and grew steadily in pitch and volume, “Iwa-chan, did you just- Did you just reference an Alien movie?!” Hajime frowned, mentally replaying his extremely abstract statement.

“Uhm, yeah, I guess. Why?” He looked quizzically at the other man who was close to hyperventilating, “Do you not like the movies or something?” Which evidently was the wrong thing to say because Oikawa’s eyes expanded to the size of dinner plates and he clutched his chest.

“Don’t like the movies?” Oikawa half-screeched, “Iwa-chan, you just referenced one of the greatest movies of all time, a masterpiece of cinematic undertaking. I’m just in shock that you use it in a daily context.” He ended in a hushed tone, wiping an invisible tear from his eye.

“Oh my god,” Now it was Hajime’s turn to gawk, wide-eyed, “You’re a complete nerd, aren’t you?”

“I have excellent taste, mind you,” Oikawa sniffed but the damage was done and Hajime barely suppressed another chuckle, hiding his smile under the lid of a bamboo shoot container.

_Ridiculously handsome, cute and geeky?_ Hajime squeezed his eyes shut, _I’m so screwed._

\---

Over the next two months, Oikawa ate at the ramen stand at least once a week. Sometimes he came in looking as perfectly coiffed as he did the first time, but more often than not, in some degree of disarray, though he never appeared anything but devastatingly gorgeous either way. And he never came earlier than 10pm, so much so that on certain nights, he was Hajime’s only customer.

Thinking back on those two months, Hajime often felt like his memories were from the reel of an arthouse film. A haze of cool night air, shadows dancing across faces as the lanterns bobbed in the wind and the constancy of Oikawa’s voice, rising and falling in laughter, teasing and deep conversation, in a song that Hajime’s heart had taken upon itself to play on repeat.

Despite seeming like he never got enough sleep, Oikawa tended to stay late into the night. They would trade jabs or talk in quiet tones, Hajime with his forearms propped up on the countertop and Oikawa with his chin in his hands, until Hajime chased him home to sleep or it was well past midnight and Hajime needed to close the shop.

He learnt that Oikawa was an astrophysicist with JAXA because he loved aliens and wanted to study space, that Oikawa had a sweet tooth that reached exponential proportions when he got upset, that he worked too long and too hard on most days and then crashed on weekends with more nerdy movies and occasional romcoms, that he had a best friend named Suga who had “a thing that’s going to be but not quite yet a thing kinda thing” with Oikawa’s hot co-worker in the astrophysics department.

He learnt that Oikawa wasn’t just the pretty face with the flirty laugh that he had assumed him to be, he was hardworking, driven, dorky, adorable and without even knowing it, Hajime had fallen for him fast.

\---

At the beginning of the second month, Hajime had plonked a bowl in front of Oikawa and proceeded to watch him like a hawk. Suspicious, Oikawa narrowed his eyes and sniffed the ramen before glancing between the dish and Hajime.

“What are you looking at me like that for? Did you put poison in?” Oikawa peered through the steam, as though if he looked hard enough he would see traces of cyanide. Hajime snorted and then coloured as he pushed the bowl a little closer to Oikawa.

“Try it,” he mumbled, “You’re always hungry but you can’t take heavy things so I tried boiling the shio broth longer. It should be slightly richer but still relatively light?”

Tooru felt his heart catch.

He’d always thought that this moment would feel like a stupendous flash of recognition, something like a hammer blow of emotion. Instead, his heart simply gave a little hitch and he knew. It was as easy as flicking the latch on your door, happened just as fast and left you feeling safe and secure and tremendously at peace. _Just like that_ , he smiled, a real, genuinely happy smile at Hajime, _just like that and I’m putty in his hands_.

He tasted the soup and knew he would never be satisfied with any other ramen. He wanted this one. He wanted this bastardized ramen and he wanted this warmth that surrounded the ramen shop and he wanted _him_.

\---

Somewhere into the third month, Oikawa sat slumped at the little ramen joint, the comforting scent of ramen broth surrounding him as he pored over multiple documents. It was closer to the midnight side of eleven but the steady patter of rain on the awning overhead meant he was in no hurry to leave anytime soon. The thrum of the rain was soothing and also resulted in Oikawa being the only customer for the past two hours or so, making this a pretty good working environment although not good enough that the formulae on his documents were making sense.

Hajime had bustled around, prepping ingredients and washing up, occasionally talking to Oikawa or glancing at his papers. But he knew Oikawa should head home soon. He had rolled up to the shop looking pale, exhausted and too bright eyed for Hajime not to be suspicious of the taller man ingesting copious amounts of coffee and energy drinks.

When Oikawa hadn’t looked up from his papers in an hour and his mutterings got louder, Hajime leant on the countertop and surveyed the situation.

Then he cocked his head.

“You need to find an upper bound on your Signal to Noise Ratio before you can proceed,” he told the chestnut head of hair.

Oikawa stared up at him dazedly.

“Wha-?”

Hajime frowned, scanning the papers Oikawa had been squinting at. Prying the pen from the other man’s hands, Hajime scribbled down an equation with the figures marked out on another sheet of paper.

“You’re trying to find this right?” He circled an acronym, “You need to find the two parallel vectors and solve for an upper bound to this before you can use it as a main equation.”

Mouth hanging open, Oikawa blinked several times, struggling to process. Then he picked up the pen and spent a while writing furiously before his head shot up so quickly he nearly headbutted Hajime who had been contorted and hanging uncomfortably off the side of the counter.

“You were right,” Oikawa murmured, “How did you know? Iwa-chan, I’ve been on this problem for the past two hours, how did you…” He gazed up in wonder at Hajime who rubbed the back of his neck.

“I ah, I have a degree in Computer Science. We’re taught to analyse data so… Yeah.”

“And?” Oikawa demanded, eyes feverish and wild.

“And what?” Hajime asked, feeling slightly trapped.

“This wasn’t basic data analysis. We’re working with a team of highly qualified personnel for this project. Not any random Computer Science graduate could have waltzed in and understood these formulae let alone point out a flaw in my working!” Oikawa reached for Hajime.

“You’re good enough to join the team! I can talk to my bosses, once they see what you can do, we could definitely use someone like you on this project!” he turned pleading, excited eyes on 

Hajime who let out a sigh.

“Oikawa, listen, I really appreciate you thinking of me like this but I can’t leave this job. Not now, at least,” He said firmly. Oikawa’s mouth dropped open again.

“You’re kidding, this is an insane opportunity. You would be so great and you’d really like everyone-”

“Oikawa,” Hajime cut him off gently, “I know it’s a great offer but I- I really can’t leave this job now. And not in the next few months, okay?” But Oikawa wasn’t listening very much, his eyes were hurt and unseeing and when he spoke, his voice was bitter and ragged.

“I get it, you don’t want it,” he plastered on a painfully bright smile and Hajime felt as though someone had punched him in the gut, “That’s fine. I didn’t mean to assume...” His voice faltered and he forged on, “I’ll see you around, Iwaizumi.”

He was shoving papers haphazardly into his bag, crushing a few and without even zipping it, he dashed out into the rain. Rubbing a hand over his face, Hajime cursed.

Slowly, he started closing up the shop, each clatter of pots and bowls a whisper in the deafening storm in his mind. Twice, he tried to cover a container with the wrong lid and once, he nearly dropped a tray of eggs, salvaging all but three which he silently cleaned up.

Leaving the store, he nearly slipped, dropping the umbrella to keep his balance but remaining upright. And then he just stood there for a while, frigid drops slowly soaking his shirt as he stared into the darkness, breathing shallow and pained. With the rain this heavy and this thick into the night, he could hardly see the shopfront, but he could picture the bright lights and the image of Oikawa perched on a stool.

Turning away, he trudged in the direction of home, leaving the umbrella where it fell.

\---

Tooru glared at the perfectly bouncy noodles floating in the clear broth, poking sullenly at some beansprouts. He was angry. Because this was a perfectly good bowl of ramen. It was amazing and he was furious. The noodles were thick and just the right amount of springy, the beansprouts were crunchy and bursting with flavour and it was chockfull of ingredients. It was fabulous and Tooru was livid. He huffed, tearing viciously into a tender slice of chashu with his teeth.

“Oikawa?” Tooru glanced up, mid-chew to see Suga staring at him, brows knit with concern, “Is your ramen alright? You don’t seem to like it very much.”

“No no! My ramen is great!” Tooru let out a cheery laugh, waving his chopsticks easily, “It’s too good, I’ll probably be back here tomorrow as well!”

Suga tilted his head and Tooru suddenly felt very naked under his friend’s thoughtful gaze. Almost as though a switch had been thrown, Suga’s worried demeanour evaporated, taking with it warm brown eyes and a gentle smile. Before he knew it, Tooru was faced with a smirk and Suga propping his chin up on his hands, hazel eyes gleaming. The brunette gulped.

“It’s Ramen-kun, isn’t it?” Suga phrased it less like a question and more like a statement, “You mentioned he was cute… But it’s more than that,” perceptive eyes narrowed under silver brows, 

“You like him. You really, really like him.”

Suga grinned widely, too widely for Tooru’s comfort.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sniffed, taking another slurp of ramen and hoping that it was sufficient enough pause as he schooled his expression into one of complete nonchalance. Of course Suga was right. The ramen was delicious but it wasn’t the one Tooru was craving.

A single brow was raised, “Uh huh, which is why you totally didn’t notice when I finished your beer on top of mine?”

Tooru glanced sharply at his mug of Asahi, which was still half full and whipped his head back to eye a smug Suga with equal parts annoyance and confusion.

“Kou-chaaaan,” he whined, “You tricked me!” He even pouted for good measure but Suga was unfazed, wicked grin still in place.

“Don’t deny it, Oikawa, you’re completely hung up over Ramen-kun.”

“And you? Still at a standstill with Dai-chan?” Oikawa slid back equally coolly, trying not to seem desperate for a change in topic.

“We’re going on a date this Friday,” Suga tried to seem smug, but the faint sparkle in his eye gave away how thrilled he really was.

“Took you two long enough,” Tooru smiled with real warmth. Yeah, he was miserable, but he wasn’t upset enough that he couldn’t be happy for his friend and best friend.

“It’s just… He’s so sweet and steady… It’s almost unreal, you know?” At this point, Suga was practically glowing with joy and Tooru couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy shoot through the second-hand euphoria.

“Hey,” he said softly, bumping the back of his hand against Suga’s outstretched on the table, “You’re both good for each other. You both deserve to be happy. Don’t short-change yourself. You’ve got something good, don’t let it go, okay?” Suga shot Tooru a rueful smile.

“Tooru, I want you to be happy too. Can’t this thing between you and Ramen-kun be fixed?”

“Suga,” Tooru felt his eyes fill, “I messed up.” He took a deep shuddering breath, trying to ignore the nausea roiling in his stomach.

“I was so tired I wasn’t thinking straight and I said a bunch of really stupid, selfish things. I just wanted things to go my way…” His eyes fixed on the soggy seaweed floating in untouched broth, “He’s been such a source of comfort. I never even-” He cuts himself off with a sob and raises his eyes to Suga in shock because he didn’t expect himself to be so worked up about this. About him.

Suga shifts, closes the short distance between their hands and squeezes Tooru’s fingers.

“He feels like home,” he whispers.

\---

It’s been three weeks since Tooru has eaten ramen.

He’s been an internal wreck, but feelings come second, especially when work hit the crunch period just as his life hit the disaster period. There are days when he’s so wrung out that he automatically walks towards the ramen stand and halfway there, he stops short only to swing around and head home.

Work started slowing down the day they made a breakthrough with their calculations. Tooru took one look at the numbers on his screen and let out a short, emotionless laugh. It used the equation that Iwa-chan had helped him with close to a month ago and here it was again, taunting him.

That day, Tooru left work promptly at five and headed directly for the ramen stand. Seating himself at the place at the end, he opened his mouth and froze, lips still tracing the start of an “Iwa-chan”.

Because there was no Iwa-chan. Dressed in the same uniform with the same scarf tied around his head was someone else. An older man, with grey hair and a slightly stooped manner of moving, and yet something so reminiscent of the chef Tooru had come to expect.

“Iwaizumi-san?” He ventured cautiously and was met with a hearty burst of laughter.

“Yes! Welcome!” He scrutinized Oikawa for a moment before frowning slightly, “You know my name so you must be a regular… But you’re not one of mine,” And then brightening, “You must be one of his!”

“Excuse me?” Tooru studied Iwaizumi-san, struggling to fit the pieces together.

“You’re looking for my son, aren’t you?” Iwaizumi-san boomed, “I told that boy he would be fine but he was still worried anyway.” He looked at Tooru’s perplexed expression and smiled kindly.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be here in a while. Although after that, he won’t be here much longer, I think.”

Tooru jumped on that, guilt flooding his veins.

“What do you mean? He’s leaving?” The concern and anxiety that had built up over a month leaked into his voice. Iwaizumi-san must have heard it because he cast a concerned look at Tooru before going on to explain.

“I keep telling him to find a job. That stubborn boy wants to keep helping me run my stall, just because I sprained my back and couldn’t walk for a while,” the elder huffed, “His mother is going to make me sleep in the living room if this goes on. My boy is bright, you see, he was top of his class and everything. But silly old me had to fall and he dropped everything to make sure my ramen stall didn’t close.”

Tooru felt an even bigger weight sink down on his chest so he clenched his fists and tried his best not to cry. He’d been selfish for too long and now, he was going to put his feelings aside and make this right.

It was a feat, but Tooru kept himself in that chair for another forty five minutes until Hajime strode in, tying the headscarf around his forehead and froze upon seeing Tooru. Iwaizumi-san only chuckled at the two of them and excused himself to the washroom, but not before he let slip that Tooru had been there for a good hour or so.

Hajime opened his mouth but Tooru held up a hand and began to speak.

“I want to apologize. Because I was rash, rude and selfish. I didn’t think about you or your situation… Only me and what I wanted and that was really awful of me,” Tooru maintained steady eye contact with Hajime and for the first time, Hajime wondered if this is what Tooru was like at work. Driven, strong and unwavering, with a fire in his eyes and steel in his words.

“I don’t care what you do, you’ll always be the same Iwa-chan to me. And again, I’m really sorry. I hope I didn’t mess things up with us,” Tooru’s nails dug painfully into his palm but his eyes remained on Hajime.

“Shittykawa,” Hajime sighed and Tooru instantaneously relaxed, “You never gave me the chance to explain, but since you’re here I’m guessing my dad’s already told you some things. I also never told you but…” Hajime shuffled, eyes somewhere on Tooru’s shoulder and flushing a light pink.

“I read up a bit on JAXA and I’ve actually secured a place. They’ll hold it for me for a couple more months until I’m sure dad can manage but yeah… I just didn’t know when to tell you.”

“When?” Tooru croaked after a pause wherein he had to locate his voice. Hajime looked up, eyebrows knit, so he clarified, “When did you apply? Or start looking? Or decide?”

“Well,” Hajime replied sheepishly, trying to avoid Tooru’s gaze, “I started research about a week after you told me about your work there. And I made a decision to apply two weeks after that.”

He attempted a weak grin, “Surprise?”

The dam broke and Tooru felt a tear roll down his cheek and in quick succession, a rough but gentle thumb carefully wiping it away.

“I was going to wait until you weren’t so busy,” Hajime told him quietly, “I was going to tell you that I wasn’t going to work here anymore but I still found a way to see you everyday.”

Tooru caught Hajime’s hand and managed a watery smile up at him.

“If you want to see me every day, you can just date me, you know?”

“How about both?” Hajime was smiling, the brilliant one that Tooru loved. The one that looked like the morning sun and sounded like the latch of a door clicking shut and felt like a dream made real.

“If you throw in occasional bowls of ramen, you’ve got yourself a deal,” Tooru beamed up at Hajime, but honestly it felt more like he was just reflecting rays, like the moon does for the sun. More so when Hajime leaned in and kissed the end of his nose.

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, okay first, I’m an arts major I don’t know anything about computer science nor astrophysics. I did my best to make it sound legit but apologies if it’s glaringly stupid, please take it as artistic license. 
> 
> And next, I hope you enjoyed it! I would love to hear what you thought so let me know!
> 
> Lastly, come spazz with me on [tumblr](https://redroseinsanity.tumblr.com/), I am always happy to talk about anything and everything!


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